Folie d'Amour
by Crimson Bttrfly
Summary: AU. Despite Nanao’s impassivity, Shunsui intuits the passionate woman behind the stony façade.  Will a desire for passion against all else inevitably drive the pair to a harrowing conclusion?


**Disclaimer:** Nope, I still don't own the rights to Bleach.

**Rating: **T – at least for now.

**Summary: **AU. In a world where everyone has a role to play, love and all its trappings sometimes takes backseat to order and control. Despite Nanao's impassivity, Shunsui intuits the passionate woman behind the stony façade. Will a desire for passion against all else inevitably drive the pair to a harrowing conclusion?

**F****olie ****d'****A****mour**

A Life in Mono

Being a woman was not particularly easy. Being a woman working a job in a chauvinistic society, even less so. But somehow, someway Nanao Watanabe had to manage.

Her boss's demanding voice tugged at her ear through the speaker of the cell phone.

Drawing an inaudible sigh, she cradled the phone between her shoulder and ear. "Yes, sir," she said, massaging her temple. The pressure was steadily increasing with every circular stroke she made.

"What?" Her voice betrayed her internal turmoil. "Hojo won't be able to make the presentation today? I – I..."

She wanted to _scream_.

_'__And, __I thought the fertility rates were dropping,'_ she _wanted _to say in the most sarcastic tone she could muster. Instead, her soft meek voice uttered a submissive, "Yes, sir," into the receiver. "I understand, sir."

It was a lie. She was probably the least understanding person she knew. But, what could she do aside from the obvious – yank her colleague out of the delivery room?

"Yes, sir. I will do that," she sighed, reluctantly.

Flipping the cell phone closed, she instinctively reached for her portfolio and dropped the device into a random opening. She shook her head before lowering it in dismay.

"Fine time to birth a child!" The grip on her black leather portfolio tightened at the very thought of it. Her left arm had gone so rigid that her watch slid down her wrist, painfully plummeting against the top of her hand.

"I can't believe my day… and it's only 8:00," she yelped, checking the time.

Taking a deep breath, she shook her head. "You are strong. You are hard. You are confident," she began chanting softly to herself as she navigated the busy sidewalk.

_'You are the wind, the sea, __the unshakable earth. You are…'_

_'… __clearly losing your mind,'_ the more cynical side of her brain chimed.

_'There is no way this is going to work. Not without __Hojo__ to give the presentation. You are going to lose this client and then you'll find yourself back at the unemployment office. You'll be poor, worthless, and your husband will leave you for being such a burden…'_

She shook the barrage of self-deprecating thoughts aside, and tried to collect her wits. _'You will be marvelous. You will…'_ She sighed at the thought. It was useless. With every step she took, the more self-conscious she became. She had never had anyone entrust this much responsibility to her before.

Her heart was drumming so heavily in her chest that she was sure she could taste the metallic flavor of blood in her mouth. _'It's a trap. Why else send you alone on such an important task?'_

Taking a deep cleansing breath, she silently began to take stock of her _finer_ points. She was more than able at art design; she was competent at executing clever promotional designs; she, however, was untested when it came to presenting said ideas in front of a large crowd of executives.

Deep in thought and nervously chewing on her bottom lip, she quickly lifted her head upon catching the glossy shine of well polished black marble and glass. "_Dam__mit__!" _she hissed under her breath, realizing that she had just walked past Global Image Corp.

_'How in the hell do you plan on book__ing them as clients if you __mindlessly walk right past them?'_ she chastised herself.

With a few carefully placed side-steps, Nanao managed to dodge a gaggle of school girls wearing white and green uniforms. Successfully navigating the teens, her reflexes were further put to the test when she came within a hairsbreadth of running face-first into an Armani clad businessman.

"Sorry!" she moaned, barely missing the man and whirling into the revolving glass door of Global Image.

"It's okay. It'll all be just fine. You're a tiger – a lion," she muttered under her breath as she pushed her way out of the glass doors.

Stepping foot into the poshly decorated lobby, Nanao felt her breath catch in her throat as she tried to inhale. 'I am…' her thoughts wandered.

'… _totally unprepared_…'

The lobby _glistened_. The dark marble floors gleamed under the bright light radiating from the long windows lining the walls. The walls were tall, white, and made of marble. The area was so grand, so cavernous that Nanao felt tiny in comparison.

_'They are going to eat me alive and then use my bones as toothpicks.'_

_'No, you'll be wonderful! You're brilliant!'_

_'You're having delusions of grandeur.'_

There was no telling how long the internal dialogue would have continued before it was quickly disrupted by the abrasive sound of a woman's voice. "Mrs. Watanabe?" The disembodied voice wafted over her, effectively chilling her to the bone.

Nanao's eyes frantically surveyed the expansive lobby in search of the voice's owner. It was like finding a needle in a haystack. Everywhere she looked there were men dressed in couture business suits and women donning power suits and pencil skirts. And, the noise echoing through the lobby was disorienting. The incessant clacking of stilettos hitting marble overwhelmed her senses. There was simply too much to encode, and now she felt the sudden pangs of vertigo tugging at her equilibrium.

She felt a hand grasp her arm. "Mrs. Watanabe!"

She immediately spun around on her heels. "Yes," her voice trembled in response.

"I'm so glad I managed to catch you!" Whoever she was, she was tall, paper thin, and annoyingly blonde.

"Yes." Nanao perseverated on the word as she looked over the waif.

_'She clearly has to be someone's daughter or mistress. Clearly,'_ Nanao mused wryly to herself, having settled on the adjective "insipid" as a suitable descriptive for the woman.

"Thank you." The response was admittedly a little delayed on Nanao's part, but she was in the process of pulling her arm out of the woman's clutches.

"You're from Multimedia Mix, right?" the insipid woman asked.

_'If you already know my name…'_ Nanao lowered her brows discriminately.

The insipid woman laughed in response. "Of course you are! How silly of me to even ask!"

Nanao managed a forced chuckle – it was either that or a scream.

"Come, come! Follow me to the boardroom where you and Mr. Takahashi will be meeting with our marketing division!"

"Mr. Takahashi will not be coming," Nanao informed, adjusting her glasses as she enunciated each syllable.

The woman shot her an over-the-shoulder glance as she continued walking. "Oh, well, that's unfortunate."

Every one of Nanao's muscles tensed in response. _'Unfortunate?__' _Her mind scrutinized the word and the context in which it was used until she felt herself suffocating under the weight of the imagined implications.

"Well, I guess it doesn't really matter anyway," the employee prattled.

"Why?"

"Oh, because even if the committee likes your ideas Mr. Kyōraku is not here. He demands final approval on all decisions pertaining to the company's image."

Nanao swallowed… _hard_…

Kyōraku was the head of the company and known bon vivant.

She _wanted_ _desperately_ to roll her eyes in response. Instead, she chose to inwardly berate herself for not anticipating such a reaction considering Global Image's recent problems, and there were many: First and foremost, the company had wanted to hire a _competent_ advertising agency to help pull them out of the quagmire that was Thunderbird Tires. A year ago the tire line suffered a rather nasty string of tire "malfunctions" resulting in three deaths and countless automotive damages. The company wisely decided to wait for the public outrage and law suits to die down before trying to redress the obvious blow that had been dealt to them. This was an advertising agency's wet dream. The company was willing to pay a high price to get their brand back on track.

The second problem the company had faced – a recent problem at that -- was the _untimely demise_ of Akira Kyōraku, Global Image's previous head and the current head's former brother. After news of his death hit the papers, allegations of his ties to the yakuza fueled a federal investigation into the company's assets.

And, now this…

_'Wonderful,'_ Nanao thought bitterly to herself. _'__Yet another problem… Could things get any worse?__'_

- - -

"So, did it?"

"Did it, what?" Nanao muttered, resting her head tiredly on the counter of the bar. She still refused to look into her friend's face – a face she was sure expressed a cheerful disposition.

"Oh, c'mon. Did you _lose_ the client?"

Nanao made an imperceptible noise under her breath.

"What? I didn't hear you," her friend chirped, grabbing Nanao by both of her shoulders and gently shaking her awake.

"I said not yet!" Nanao spat, raising her voice over the roar of patrons chatting in the background. Her head still remained buried in her arms, a posture that she was sure her friend would inevitably "fix".

"'Yet?' And here I thought you had a bad day," the woman sounded oddly depressed.

"Oh, I did. First, the computer broke down so I couldn't show them the digital presentation I had prepared…"

"But you brought your portfolio so all was saved I'm sure."

Nanao turned her head to the side, and glanced up at the well-endowed blonde. "Yes," she sighed in the defeated tone she so often used to express her dismay. "But it's not the same, Rangiku."

"Oh, pshh," Rangiku said, giving her friend a dismissive wave of her hand. "So, your ideas were accepted, correct? Mission accomplished: Job saved?"

Nanao shook her head dismally. "Nope. Not yet."

The blonde lifted her brows at the revelation. "Whadda you mean?"

"I still have to go through round two with the head of the corporation."

"Hah! You mean Kyōraku?"

Nanao closed her eyes and nodded.

"Show some cleavage and you'll be fine."

Nanao cocked a brow in response. She appeared _far _from convinced.

"He's a known womanizer! Do you not read the gossip columns?"

"He's married," Nanao said confidently.

_'Not that marriage ever stopped anyone before,'_ the more pessimistic side of her noted drily.

"Wow!" Rangiku laughed at her friend. "Marriage isn't a panacea when it comes to promiscuity," she noted happily, taking a swig of her drink.

"I suppose…"

"Speaking of marriage, how are you and Kenji doing?"

Nanao's brows lifted slightly, betraying her otherwise stony façade. "Fine."

Rangiku's features softened as she scanned her friend's expression. "_Fine_? That doesn't sound good."

Nanao swallowed her friend's criticism like bitter medication and tried to shrug it off.

"That _good_, huh?" Between her bouts of intoxication and vanity, Rangiku could be dreadfully perceptive. "When was the last time you had -"

"Finish that sentence…"

"That _long_, huh?"

Nanao's eyelids drooped at the insinuation. "Not that it's any of _your_ business."

"I never understood why you wanted to marry _that man_."

Nanao fought back a smile. "That man" was her friend's favorite epithet for her husband, and it was always said in such a rueful tone that she couldn't help but smile inwardly at it.

"Because I had a responsibility to my family to do so," she answered, careful not to express any emotion.

"You do _know_ the days of arranged marriages _are_ over, right?"

She knew. She knew well, but there were certain pressures -- certain duties -- one has to perform, no matter how loathsome, for one's family. Marriage was one of those duties. Childbearing was another. Kenji Watanabe had been the first man to show such an interest in her, and at the time she thought he would be her best offer.

"I am happy," she stated coldly.

"Ah-huh. Are you trying to convince me or yourself of that?"

Nanao couldn't help but flash a weak smile at her friend's prodding. "Either/or."

"You know, you should consider a paramour."

"I fail to see how that would solve _any_ of my problems."

Her friend shot her the most wicked of grins in response. "Oh, but _I_ do," Rangiku said amidst a fit of laughter.

* * *

A/N

Um, in regards to a very astute observation of the change in Nanao's last name, this is due to the fact that she is (at least for the purposes of this story) married. Sorry for any confusion.


End file.
